<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The magician’s cock by Callmepapi</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27366676">The magician’s cock</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callmepapi/pseuds/Callmepapi'>Callmepapi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shakespeare &amp; Hathaway: Private Investigators (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Callum gets used &amp; abused, Dom/sub Undertones, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, Hair Tugging, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Overstimulation, Wine, and Callum fucking loves it, basically Anton gets Callum drunk from wine, bottom Callum Ballimore, then fucks him, then sends him home, top Anton Dukes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:42:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,687</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27366676</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callmepapi/pseuds/Callmepapi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn’t notice when Anton takes the cup out of his lax grip and sets it on the table. He doesn’t notice the tv being switched off, bathing them both in the warm light of the fire. He does notice the way Anton's hand starts palming him through his jeans.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Callum Ballimore/Anton Dukes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The magician’s cock</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Refractory period??? Who’s she???</p><p>Comments and kudos appreciated XD</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Callum opened the door of Anton's car, letting himself out. The magician had offered him a bonus if he helped carry some heavy props from his car to his house. Callum wasn’t sure if Anton was just lazy or generally couldn’t do it - he seemed like a strong enough man - but Callum wanted that bonus.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Here.” Anton gave the boy two heavy boxes stacked on top of each other, Callum was sure that they were filled with bricks at least, they weighed a ton!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Got it?” Anton smirked. Callum failed to notice the way the magician’s eyes glanced at his quivering muscles as he struggled to carry the weight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Er- yeah- yes, Mr. Dukes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just,” he waved a hand in the air, as if motioning him to just leave it, “call me Anton,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nngh,” Callum struggled to continue holding the weight of the boxes, “can we go inside now?” He asked, breathless. Anton shut the boot of his car and locked it. He made his way up to his house, a very modern one at that, Callum didn’t even know there were houses like that in their town.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He unlocked the door and led Callum towards a spare room, telling him to dump the boxes down in the corner. Callum did so, bending over and, without meaning to, giving Anton a very nice view of his rounded ass.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Callum stood up, sighing and dusting his hands. He turned around to leave but Anton blocked the doorway, leaning against the frame, “fancy a drink?” He said, “I’ve noticed you’ve been working awfully hard this week, I think you deserve to relax.” He smiled. There was something predatory about him but Callum shrugged it off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Erm, I really should be going.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Callum. It will give us a chance to get to know each other, we’re going to be working quite closely from now on, aren’t we?” Callum hesitates for a moment. It’s late and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> be getting home, but he wouldn’t mind a drink and possibly some time to make a new friend, lord knows he needs some.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A- a little drink won’t hurt, ‘spose.” Anton’s face brightens up into a grin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s the spirit, Callum!” He claps a hand on his shoulder which quickly makes its way toward Callum’s lower back, leading him into the living room. Anton opens up a shelf, reaching out for a bottle of wine. He glances at Callum, standing idly in the open area.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Take your coat off and shove it on a spare seat,” he says. Callum quickly does as told, “take your shoves off too, that’s an expensive rug.” He kicks off his sneakers and sits himself down on the couch. The electric fire is on, it was on when they came in and Callum chalks it up to being automatic, since the nights are turning wintery now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anton hands him a glass of wine, red, and flicks on the tv, “fancy anything in particular?” He asks him. Callum shakes his head and Anton sighs then puts on a random action film in the background. Callum takes a large sip of wine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The film lasts about two hours, both of them casually drinking wine throughout, though Callum more so than Anton. The magician keeps a watchful eye on the stagehand’s drink and always refills it when he sees it getting too low.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At this point, Callum’s sloshed. His cheeks are pink and hot, his head lolls on his shoulders and he’s giggling at random events on the tv. He doesn’t notice when Anton takes the cup out of his lax grip and sets it on the table. He doesn’t notice the tv being switched off, bathing them both in the warm light of the fire. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>does</span>
  </em>
  <span> notice the way Anton's hand starts palming him through his jeans. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Callum can’t help the moan that escapes his lips, his head thrown back against the coach. He can’t help the whine as anyone takes his hand away, only to undo the buttons on his jeans and slip his hand beneath the waistband of his boxers. He rubs Callum’s cock to completion, the stagehand moaning and writhing underneath him, white knuckles fisted into the couch. He spills into his boxers, enjoying the aftermath of his rough yet very nice handjob. Anton barely gives him time to recover before he’s reclining callum to lay along the sofa, tugging off his jeans and his boxers too, covered in hot, sticky seed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The tell-tale sounds of lube being popped opened rings around the room. Anton slathers his fingers up before using one hand to push back Callum’s right knee and prodding his hole with the other. Callum moans, his back arching and his hips thrusting to impale himself further onto Anton’s finger. A second one joins quickly after, twisting and turning and wringing out an array of little sounds from the stagehand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The hand on Callum's leg moves to his shirt, roughly tugging it up. He gets the hint and sluggishly moves it up and over his head, his brain still muddled with drink. Anton’s hand moves up towards his chest, a well timed hit against Callum’s prostate and a sharp tug of his chest has Callum gasping and arching up for more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck… maybe I’ll issue a dress code for you. Less black t-shirts and more button ups. Be a shame to cover all that up when you’re working with me.” Callum only whimpers in response, “I’ll take you in the dressing room, right after a show. Maybe I’ll keep the mic on, so everyone in the building can hear your little cries and moans for more.” A third finger gets added, rubbing against Callum so sweetly, and he finds himself spilling for the second time that night, hot seed covering his belly, even his chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His limbs are weak and exhausted, the electric tingle from his climax still shooting through his body as he watches Anton unzip his own pants. The rest of his clothes are still on, the exact opposite to Callum, and he’s surprised at the surge of arousal he gets from that, that maybe Anton doesn’t deem him worthy of seeing him nude, like Callum was lesser and only deserved to be used as a hole to be filled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anton’s cock was thick and even with the three fingers stretching him out, Callum still whined at the pleasant burn. Slowly, Anton filled him up, continuing to sink into him for what felt like hours until he was bottomed out. Callum had never felt so full, it felt like the magician’s cock was pushing against his lungs, like he couldn’t breathe. If he looked down he could see the bulge in his stomach where Anton’s cock lay, warming up in his tight hole.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anton began to thrust inside him, his cock dragging in and out against his over sensitive prostate, making Callum’s thighs twitch and small sobs and mewls to spill out from his throat. One of Anton’s hands moved up to his chest, thumbing over a sensitive, pebbled nipple,making Callum gasp and shudder beneath him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He moved that hand to grip against the couch, keeping him up, while the other moved to Callum’s soft cock; spent from his already two orgasms. The tip was pink and shiny, soaked in come and completely spent. But that didn’t stop Anton from trying for another.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gave the cock a few rubs, feeling it thicken out slightly in his hand, not as fast as before, but the boy was young and his body could definitely handle another climax. He rubbed it until it twitched and lay on it’s side against Callum’s hip, half hard and wanting. Then he moved his hands to Callum’s balls, squeezing gently and listening intently to Callum’s moans as he thrust inside the boy, faster as the night progressed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He squeezed Callum’s balls harder, watching the muscle in his thigh twitch - one of the telltale signs that callum was close, at least that’s what Anton had picked up on anyway - he fastened his thrusts, bringing his hand back to rub Callum’s cock and lowering himself down to suck at his left nipple. The stagehand moaned, a hand coming up to cradle the back of Anton's head as Callum gasped and gripped his hair at the same time, the ends of his fabric wristbands tickling Anton’s neck.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anton pulled away, easily slipping out of Callum’s grasp and moved up until his clothed chest was pressed against Callum’s bare one, uncaring of the sticky come that would ruin his shirt. He sucked marks into Callum’s neck, high up so everybody could see. Bruises and red lovebites soon scattered the pale unmarked skin and Anton used his free hand to tug Callum’s hair harshly as he finally spilled inside him, the image of the wrecked boy beneath him simply too delectable for him not to spill inside him. Callum came shortly after, the hot seed shooting inside him practically forcing the orgasm out of him, a weak dribble of come spurting from his spent cock. The cherry on top was the come leaking out of Callum's gaping hole when he pulled out, relishing in the boy's small whimper of discomfort. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"you can see yourself out." Callum looked up at him, cheeks flushed red and sweat glistening in his skin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"what?" he asked, his voice timid and small, apparently unaware that he wasn't good enough to stay over at Anton's house. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Get your clothes and get out. I'll see you at work tomorrow, bright and early," Anton said, exasperated. Callum's lower lip trembled as he sat up, slowly tugging his clothes back over his body, wincing when it stuck against his skin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"don't forget the show tomorrow night, wear something nice. I might still take up on that offer afterwards." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even though he had been completely used and abused that entire night, he couldn't help the bashful smile that played on his face. He'd have to buy new clothes, perhaps a black button down, showing off far too much of his chest to be pg, anything to catch the magician's eye. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>